Father of Mine
by Grissbabe
Summary: The CSIs' have a dead body that hits very close to home. GS slant


Disclaimer: I don't own them. Please don't sue me. I have no money. Just a vivid imagination and filthy thoughts! :) The song listed in this fan fiction is called "Father of Mine" by the band Everclear. The lyrics don't necessarily run in order like the do in the song. I moved them around to fit where I wanted them in the story. Spoilers: None here kiddies.....Spoiler free baby!  
  
Special thanks to all the great responses to my first fan fiction, "#1 Fan" (shameless plug, I know...). And a very special thanks to my beta extraordinaire, Devanie. You rock my friend! :)  
  
Father of Mine  
  
By Grissbabe  
  
"Took you long enough to get here," said Brass sarcastically. The sun beat down on him in the barren construction lot like a wild fire.  
  
"Sorry, Brass. Bad accident. Got stuck in traffic," said Warrick as he strolled toward Brass, Grissom and Sara following from behind.  
  
"Yeah...well...it's hot out here," Brass muttered. "Elderly vic. No I.D."  
  
"I got the body. Sara...Warrick...check out the perimeter," said Grissom as he knelt down next to David the coroner. "What have we got, David?"  
  
"Older man. Probably sixty-five to seventy years old. Shot through and through. He's been dead at least three to four hours. That would place the time of death around three to four AM," David said as he checked the body temperature.  
  
Sara and Warrick walked around the perimeter of the crime scene looking closely at the pavement. Sara occasionally glanced up at Grissom, but looked away before he could catch her staring. She was just happy to be working the same case with him. He had distanced himself for so long.  
  
Grissom stared thoughtfully at the body laying face down on the pavement. He snapped off some photos of the body then slipped on a pair of gloves.  
  
" David, let's turn the body over on his back," Grissom said.  
  
With Grissom at the head and David at the feet, they slowly and gently turned the body over onto his back. David's head shot up as he heard a gasp escape Grissom. All of the color had drained from the man's face. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.  
  
" Mr. Grissom, are you alright?" David asked quickly, the concern evident in his voice.  
  
Grissom slowly ran his hand across his mouth. " David...fingerprint this body," he uttered in a whisper.  
  
" But we usually wait till..."  
  
" Now David...please," Grissom said sternly.  
  
" Okay," David replied as he took the inkpad and fingerprinting cards Grissom held out to him.  
  
He quickly printed each hand and handed the cards to Grissom.  
  
" Is there something wrong, Mr. Grissom?" David asked.  
  
"No David. Thank you," Grissom said as he grabbed his kit and made his way to his Tahoe.  
  
Sara looked up from a footprint she was examining to see Grissom walking briskly to his Tahoe.  
  
"Gris! Where are you going?" she yelled with confusion in her voice.  
  
" I...I've got to get back to the lab. You and Warrick can handle this scene," Grissom yelled back as he quickly got into his Tahoe and sped off.  
  
Sara held up her hands in exasperation. Brass strolled over next to her and they both watched Grissom drive away.  
  
"What the hell was that all about?" Sara asked, turning to Brass.  
  
" Don't know. David said something about the body spooked him. He had David print the vic," Brass said.  
  
" Why? They usually do that in the autopsy room," Sara replied.  
  
"I don't try to understand that man anymore. He just...is," Brass said with a roll of his eyes as he strolled off.  
  
Sara stared off into the distance. Warrick came up to her from behind.  
  
"Sara...don't kill yourself trying to figure him out. It's kinda like that song..."The Song that Never Ends". You won't come to any conclusion 'cause I don't think there is one," Warrick said with a smirk.  
  
Sara let out a deep sigh. "Okay...let's get this scene processed," Sara said as she stole one last glance out into the distance, hoping she could still see his truck. She shook her head in defeat, then continued her collecting.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Sara walked briskly into the CSI building with anger burning in the pit of her stomach. Her confusion from earlier had morphed into that of deep insult. She wanted to know why Grissom ran off from their scene. First, he distanced himself emotionally from her. Now, he couldn't even stand to be at the same crime scene as her. She was fed up. She stormed up to his office door. The lights were dimmed and his blinds were shut, but she knew he was in there, hiding from her. She quickly grabbed the knob and stormed in.  
  
He sat in his chair with his back to Sara, staring at the wall. He made no move to turn around.  
  
" Grissom! What the hell was that all about!? Leaving the scene like that. Look, I know things are weird between you and I right now, but we need your help on this case, Gris," Sara yelled breathlessly.  
  
He made no move to turn around. " I can't help you with your case, Sara," he replied calmly.  
  
" What?! Why the hell not, Grissom?" Sara yelled, the pain evident in her voice.  
  
"This has nothing to do with you, Sara" he replied as he slowly turned his chair around. He was holding a computer printout in his hands.  
  
" What the hell is the problem then? Why can't you work with me on this?" Sara asked slowly.  
  
Grissom paused. It was at this moment that she noticed the storm raging in his sapphire blue eyes.  
  
" If I helped you it would compromise the investigation," he said softly.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Sara asked with confusion furrowing her brow.  
  
Grissom let out a deep sigh the leaned over and handed the printout to Sara. She stared at it for what seemed like an eternity, then forced her stare to look up at Grissom.  
  
"I...I don't get it. Martin Grissom....is he a relative of yours?" Sara asked with caution.  
  
Grissom locked eyes with Sara for a moment and she saw an emotion there that she didn't think he was capable of: sadness. He broke her gaze and put on a mask of blank emotion. He swallowed hard.  
  
"He's my father," he answered almost robotically.  
  
" What? My God, Gris...I'm sorry. But...why did you need fingerprints...I...," Sara stuttered with regret and confusion clouding her words and her brain.  
  
" I haven't seen the man in twenty-six years, so I needed a little help to make sure it was him," Grissom answered curtly.  
  
"Look...Gris...," Sara began, but was cut off.  
  
" Look...Sara...I've got a lot of paperwork to do. I'm sorry about earlier...I...I just can't help you," he answered as he buried his nose into his paperwork.  
  
Sara slowly rose from the chair that she apparently sank into during her moment of shock. She went for the door and grabbed the knob. She hesitated and glanced back at Grissom compassionately. He obviously had a bad history with his father and most certainly wasn't in the mood to talk about it now. Maybe she could coax him into talking to her later. She turned back to the door and quietly made her way out of the room.  
  
__________________________________________________________________________  
  
Sara quietly entered the autopsy room where Doc Robbins was finishing his initial examination of the body. He looked up and noticed the odd expression on Sara's face.  
  
" I see that you've already talked to Gil," he said slowly.  
  
" Uh...yeah. Did he come down here? Sara asked quietly.  
  
" Yes. When they first brought the body in. He told me whom I was dealing with then beat a hasty retreat," Doc Robbins said sadly.  
  
" Did he say anything else?" Sara asked.  
  
" No. I'm as much in the dark as you are," he replied.  
  
Sara gazed down at the man lying on the table. She definitely saw the resemblance. He had the same salt and pepper gray hair. She looked to his face and noticed that his eyes were still open. Though they had started to glaze slightly from death, she could see the familiar blue piercing gaze that his son shared.  
  
"What happened to him?" Sara asked, lost in thought, her eyes locked with those familiar blue eyes that she dreamt of during her sporadic periods of sleep.  
  
" Shot in the upper torso, through and through, at close range. The bullet did a lot of damage. He bled out quickly. He does have some defensive wounds on his hands. I scraped under his nails and sent it to DNA," he replied. " Are there any leads as to what may have occurred?"  
  
" None. We'll see what the evidence says," Sara replied before thanking the doctor and exiting the room.  
  
Just as Sara made her way out of the autopsy room she ran right into Warrick, who was on his way in.  
  
" There you are. Hey, did you find Grissom...find out why he bailed on us at the scene?" he asked.  
  
" Uh...yeah I did. You and I are working this case. Grissom is out," Sara said as she made her way quickly up the hall, Warrick trotting up behind her.  
  
" Hey...hey slow down. What the hell is going on?" Warrick asked angrily.  
  
Sara stopped and turned to Warrick. She let out a deep sigh. " Our victim tonight...it's Grissom's father," she stated slowly.  
  
"What? My God...I gotta go talk to him, " Warrick replied as he turned to head towards Grissom's office.  
  
Sara reached out and quickly grabbed Warrick's arm. "No...just leave him alone. There's a weird, ugly past between them and he doesn't appear to be interested in talking about it. Let's just go start working on the evidence we collected and hope that it leads us to who did this."  
  
Warrick let out a deep sigh. "Alright. I got some good footprints from the scene...some fibers."  
  
" Good. Let's get started. Doc Robbins is gonna call us when the total autopsy is done," Sara said as they made their way toward the Layout room.  
  
__________________________________________________________________________  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Father of Mine. Tell me where have you been. You know I just closed my eyes. My whole world disappeared. Father of Mine. Take me back to the day. When I was still your golden boy. Back before you went away. I remember blue skies. Walking the block. I loved it when you held me high. I loved to hear you talk. You would take me to the movie. You would take me to the beach. You would take me to a place inside. That is so hard to reach. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Grissom sat in his office going through mind-numbing stacks of paperwork, trying to keep his mind off the body on the slab in the morgue. His....father. The word seemed so foreign to him. He never considered Martin Grissom to be anything close to what you would classify as a father. Most of his memories of his father were painful to say the least. Things weren't always bad, though. He still harbored vague memories of walking with his father as a small child along the beaches of Marina Del Rey, collecting shells and bugs. Those were the good times from what he could remember. But he also remembered the nights he sat at the top of the stairs listening to his parents incessant fighting. His father's work began keeping him away from home more often. Too many nights he caught his mother sitting curled up on the couch in tears, waiting for his father to come home. Then the divorce came and a sad, five-year-old Gil Grissom watched his father walk out of his life. Even after his mother went deaf he always hoped his father would come back to be with him and his mother, to take care of them. But he never did. Sure, there were the obligatory birthday cards and visits that came sporadically over the years. And the numerous phone calls where his father always promised to come pick him up and spend the day with him. He remembered all the times he sat on his front porch staring at his watch, waiting for him to show up.  
  
" He's not going to come, sweetheart, " his mother would sign to him sadly.  
  
"Yes he will. He promised this time," he would sign back furiously.  
  
Eventually, he started listening to his mother.  
  
__________________________________________________________________________  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Father of Mine. Tell me where did you go. You had the world inside your hand. But you did not seem to know. Father of Mine. Tall me what do you see. When you look back on your wasted life. And you don't see me.  
  
Sometimes you would send me a birthday card. With a five dollar bill. I never understood you then. And I guess I never will. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
__________________________________________________________________________  
  
Sara and Warrick sat in the Layout room going over the shoe prints and fibers they found at the scene. So far all they had was that the fiber was a black cotton material and the shoe print was from a size ten Air Jordan sneaker.  
  
"Jeez...his body was found in an old dirt lot that's getting ready for construction. That could be anyone's shoe print," Warrick said dryly.  
  
" I know, but we do have some DNA evidence should we find a suspect to match it to," Sara muttered.  
  
As if on cue, Greg came gliding in waving a computer printout in front of him.  
  
" Well...this doesn't say a name, of course, but your DNA sample is most definitely male," Greg said with a sheepish grin on his face.  
  
" Well....that's a start," Warrick said.  
  
Just then Sara's beeper went off.  
  
" It's Doc Robbins. Autopsy is complete. I'm gonna check it out. See if he found anything useful," Sara said as she quickly made her way out of the room.  
  
" Uh...I heard that this vic is Grissom's father. I...I feel like I should offer my condolences. Where is he?" Greg asked.  
  
" Don't bother, Greggo. Just...just leave him alone, okay man?" Warrick asked.  
  
Brass came bounding down the halls and quickly spotted Warrick.  
  
" Brown! Found your vic's car about half a mile down the road from your crime scene. It's a rental...uh...under Martin Grissom. We need you to process it," Brass sputtered. The gossip had made its way out of CSI to Brass. He knew vaguely about Grissom's past with his father and knew to leave him alone.  
  
"Alright! Now we're cooking. Greg, if you see Sara fill her in for me," Warrick said as he bolted out of the room.  
  
_________________________________________________________________________  
  
Sara entered the autopsy room and quickly pulled up a chair next to Doc Robbins, who was finishing his notes.  
  
"So...did you find anything else that might be useful to the investigation?" Sara asked, trying to sound optimistic.  
  
" Well...no. But I can say that whoever killed him pretty much did him a favor," he uttered sadly.  
  
Sara furrowed her brow in confusion. " I don't follow."  
  
" End-stage cancer. His body was riddled with tumors," Doc said.  
  
Sara swallowed hard. " Does Grissom know?"  
  
" I tried to get a hold of him, but he isn't answering any calls or pages. I wanted him to hear it from me," he said quietly.  
  
" Thanks, Doc.," Sara replied as she walked briskly out of the autopsy room and maneuvered her way through the halls to Grissom's office. She was surprised when she opened the door and found Catherine sitting at Grissom's desk.  
  
" Where....where's Grissom?" she asked.  
  
Catherine let out a deep sigh. " He asked if I could take over things for the night."  
  
" Did he talk to you?" Sara asked.  
  
" No. I tried, but he's just so...angry. At least that's what he wants me to think. I know this is killing him, but he refuses to let it out," Catherine replied sadly.  
  
Just then, Greg passed by Grissom's office. Spotting Sara, he stuck his head in the door.  
  
" Sara, Warrick wanted me to tell you they found your vic's car...half a mile down the road from your crime scene. He left with Brass to go process it."  
  
" Okay. Thanks, Greg," Sara said with a smile. " I'm gonna go help Warrick."  
  
" Go," Catherine said.  
  
Sara quickly grabbed her field kit and ran out the door.  
  
_________________________________________________________________________  
  
Sara drove soundlessly through the neon nightlife that was Vegas. She didn't indulge in the gambling aspects of Vegas too much. She didn't indulge in much outside her apartment, filled with her forensic journals and her precious police scanner. She was scanning the crowds when her cell phone rang.  
  
" Sara," she answered.  
  
" Sara, it's Warrick."  
  
"Yeah....I'm on my way to the scene," Sara said.  
  
" Don't bother. Processed the surrounding area. We're bringing the car back to CSI. We'll process it there," Warrick replied. " Found the vic's wallet, too. California I.D.. If Grissom had no relationship with this guy...I wonder what he was doing in Vegas."  
  
Sara sighed. " I don't know. I'll see you back at CSI," Sara said as she hung up.  
  
She cruised slowly through the traffic, looking for a place to turn around. She slowly came up on a popular sports bar that she had occasionally gone to with Nick and Warrick. She glanced over at the building briefly, then suddenly slammed on her brakes. She whipped her head back to the parking lot and spotted a familiar blue Tahoe. She quickly turned into the bar's parking lot and found a spot in the back to park.  
  
As she entered the smoky bar her senses were assaulted by the smell of alcohol and the roar of a crowd of people enthusiastically watching a football game on the television. Her eyes scanned the room looking for that familiar face and spotted him sitting all alone at the end of the bar, staring into a half-empty beer bottle. The site of him made her heart ache. She slowly approached him and sat on the stool next to him.  
  
Grissom was so lost in thought that he didn't even see Sara sit next to him till he heard her voice...that voice...ask the bartender for a club soda. He turned his head slowly to her and gave her a sad, crooked grin.  
  
" Hi," he said softly.  
  
" Hi. How are you doing?" Sara asked sweetly.  
  
He chuckled softly. " Great. I've had better days."  
  
Sara chose her words carefully. " I know this must be hard on you, Grissom."  
  
Grissom released a deep sigh. " I...I don't know how to feel."  
  
Sara furrowed her brow in confusion.  
  
Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the great need to tell someone about this weight that he carried with him everyday of his life. Tonight he felt like sharing. He took a small pull off his beer.  
  
" My father....he worked in the importing and exporting business. He wasn't home a whole lot and it was very hard on my mother. My parents' divorced when I was five and....well...let's just say that dear old Dad was never in the running for any Father of the Year awards."  
  
Sara sat, listening intently. She was trying to hide her shock that he was even sharing something so personal about himself with her.  
  
Grissom stared ahead, lost in a bitter memory.  
  
" The last time I saw my father was at my college graduation. He showed up with this brand new car for me. A new car was supposed to make up for the fact that he hadn't seen or even spoken to me in five years. I saw him...with that car...and I told him to go to hell. I told him that I hated him and that I never wanted to see him again."  
  
Sara scanned his face and saw a wave of emotions swirl through his intense blue eyes. She reached out and touched his arm tenderly.  
  
" My father threw away having a real life with the people that he loved and cared for....for a job," Grissom said. He let out a deep sigh and briefly glanced down at Sara's hand on his arm. He looked up at her and locked his gaze on her, giving her a sad version of his trademark grin.  
  
"Like father, like son," he said.  
  
Sara's eyes widened at his small, discreet revelation. She looked into his eyes and saw those emotions once again shift to anger. Grissom shifted his gaze back to his beer.  
  
" So...I can't help you with your investigation, " he said bitterly.  
  
Sara moved her hand from Grissom's arm.  
  
"Gris...we know your Dad wasn't a resident of Nevada. We found his wallet with a California I.D." She stopped and scanned his face for a reaction. His face was blank. " Is there any reason why he would be here in Las Vegas?" She had her own opinions, but wanted to see what Grissom thought.  
  
He pursed his lips, then took another pull off his beer.  
  
" I can't explain the behavior of a man I don't know, Sara," he said.  
  
Sara took the hint. She watched as he ordered another beer.  
  
" Gris, do you want me to give you a ride home?" she asked cautiously. She hated seeing him sit here drinking his sorrows away.  
  
He looked at her thoughtfully. Even when he was being an ass she always seemed to take it in stride.  
  
" No...I'll be fine. I'll call a cab if I need to," he answered.  
  
" Okay. Gris?" she asked.  
  
" Yeah," he answered.  
  
" We're gonna catch the person who did this," she said softly.  
  
He turned to her and shrugged. " You do that."  
  
She stared at him in disbelief, then turned and left the bar.  
  
Grissom watched her walk out and wondered why he continued to hurt someone that wanted nothing more but to help him. But he felt he was beyond help.  
  
__________________________________________________________________________  
  
Back at CSI Sara and Warrick scoured the victim's car from front to back. They found another black fiber, similar to the one they found near the victim's body, in the driver's seat. They found numerous fingerprints on the steering wheel, but with the car being a rental trying to get anything useful from those was a big task. Warrick shined his flashlight along the floorboard of the car. A distinct, dirty shoe print on the driver side stood out.  
  
" That's the same shoe print that I lifted near the body. Air Jordan...looks like the same size too. Size ten," Warrick said as he ran the beam of his flashlight over the print.  
  
" Well....I'm gonna go give this fiber to Greg and have him compare it to the other one we found. I'm gonna run some of these prints from the steering wheel. See if anything stands out," Sara said as she exited the garage.  
  
" Let me know if you get any hits," Warrick yelled as he prepared to lift the shoe print from the floorboard.  
  
_______________________________________________________________________  
  
Beep. Beep. Beep.  
  
'Is that my alarm,' Sara thought as she slowly opened her eyes. Then she realized where she was. Still running prints. She stayed all through the day shift and now it was almost time for her own shift to begin.  
  
Beep. Beep. Beep.  
  
She shook the cobwebs from her mind and glanced up at the computer screen. A hit on one of the fingerprints. She hit enter to get the person's identity.  
  
" Jorge Garcia. Age fifteen. What would you be doing with a rental car, my friend?" she asked herself out loud.  
  
She changed screens and brought up a juvenile record a mile long. She flipped open her cell phone and dialed Brass's number.  
  
" It's Sara. I think we may have a possible suspect, " she said.  
  
_________________________________________________________________________  
  
Five hours into the graveyard shift Brass was able to bring in the young suspect. He sat in the interrogation room with a vicious sneer on his face. Sara and Warrick joined Brass in the room. Sara glanced briefly at the two- way mirror before returning her attention to the suspect.  
  
Grissom stood on the other side of the mirror watching. Sara had called him when they realized they had a potential suspect, waking him from a drunken sleep. He now struggled with a pounding headache caused by something he hadn't experienced in years: a hangover. Catherine stood next to him watching intently. She would have been amused by his current state if it hadn't been for what she knew drove him to it. She hated seeing her dear friend suffer like this.  
  
Sara sat down across from Jorge and stared at him intently.  
  
" I like your bandana. Looks familiar. Snakebacks, right?" she asked, admiring the black bandana tied around his head.  
  
" What's it to you, bitch?" Jorge fired back viciously.  
  
" Hey! Listen here you little punk. You sit there and keep your little comments to yourself. We ask the questions, you answer." Brass yelled.  
  
Jorge's lawyer grabbed his arm and whispered in his ear.  
  
" Alright," Jorge muttered.  
  
" I see your bandana looks a little torn in the back. Can I look at it?" Sara asked sweetly.  
  
" No," Jorge answered bluntly. He was young, but he already knew the law. Without a court order he didn't have to do or say anything.  
  
" How about your sneakers?" Warrick chimed in.  
  
" Fuck you!" Jorge spewed through clenched teeth.  
  
" I'm warning you!" Brass screamed. " Counsel, better learn to control your client."  
  
" Enough silly questions. Either get to the point as to why you hauled my client down here or we're walking out the door," the lawyer yelled.  
  
" Ever rented a car, Jorge?" Brass asked, his temper seething.  
  
" Uh...no. I'm not old enough, dipshit," Jorge answered sarcastically.  
  
" Well...that's odd. Why did we find your fingerprints on the inside of a car rented to a man we found murdered?" Sara asked coldly.  
  
" Hmm....don't know," Jorge muttered. His tough-guy exterior was beginning to peel.  
  
" My client has a long list of car theft charges. This could be a car that he stole once," his lawyer sputtered.  
  
" Yeah, except that this was a brand new car for the rental company. They've only had this specific car for about 3 months and it has not been stolen in that period of time," Sara stated sarcastically. She turned her piercing gaze toward Jorge.  
  
" You know what...I think you were definitely involved in this. And I can get a court order here in a matter of minutes if I have to," Sara yelled.  
  
" Then do it, bitch. In the meantime, I'm out of here. You can't keep me here with no evidence," Jorge yelled.  
  
" No, but we can keep you on an outstanding warrant. You're wanted for selling stolen goods," Brass said with a smug look on his face.  
  
" Dammit!" Jorge yelled as he slumped back into his chair.  
  
Sara grabbed Brass by the arm as they exited the room.  
  
" We need a court order for the bandana, the shoes, and a DNA sample," Sara said.  
  
" Geez...is that all? That's slim evidence in there. I don't know if I can get a judge to sign off on something like that with such little evidence," Brass said.  
  
" C'mon, Brass! He's wearing a black bandana that is torn. I am almost positive our black fibers are from that bandana. And Christ, Brass! He's wearing Air Jordan sneakers. He's wearing all our evidence, dammit! I'm telling you Brass, he's involved in this. He may not have done it, but he was definitely there," Sara stated loudly.  
  
Brass let out a deep groan. He looked at Sara's optimistic grin and gave her a wink. " I'll try. No guarantees."  
  
" Thanks, Brass," she said with a smile as she watched him trot down the hall.  
  
She turned and entered the viewing room just as Catherine was leaving. Grissom stood by the two-way mirror fiddling with his coffee cup.  
  
" We're trying to get a court order for the bandana, shoes, and his DNA," she stated.  
  
Grissom shrugged nonchalantly. " Okay."  
  
His indifference was beginning to annoy her. " Yeah," she muttered sarcastically as she left the room.  
  
Grissom watched her leave and let out a deep sigh. He knew she was trying to help find his father's killer, but he found it hard to have any emotions for a man he hardly knew.  
  
______________________________________________________________________  
  
Forty-five minutes later Sara saw Brass come trotting down the hallway with the court order in his hand.  
  
" You got lucky, babe. Judge owed me a favor," Brass said breathlessly.  
  
" You rock, Brass," Sara said with a huge grin.  
  
She walked back into the interrogation room with Brass and Warrick in tow.  
  
" Bandana and sneakers...hand them over now," Sara said fiercely as she slapped the court order down in front of Jorge's lawyer.  
  
The lawyer read the order over slowly and reluctantly shook his head toward his client to indicate that he had to comply.  
  
The tough guy image crumbled and what now appeared before the investigators was a terrified child. With shaking hands he removed the bandana and sneakers and handed them to Sara. Warrick took the shoes and compared the bottoms to the shoe prints lifted from the scene and the floorboards of the rental car.  
  
" It's a match," he said softly.  
  
" Open up," Sara said curtly as she held out a swab to collect her DNA sample. The boy complied and she quickly swabbed the inside of his cheek. " Warrick, will you take the bandana and DNA sample to Greg to analyze?" Sara asked politely, her eyes never leaving the now trembling boy in front of her.  
  
" Sure thing," Warrick said as he collected the evidence and exited the room.  
  
" Sit tight, Jorge," she said sarcastically as she left the room.  
  
_________________________________________________________________________  
  
Sara paced the halls, impatiently waiting for the results. She avoided going to Grissom. His behavior was making her angry beyond words.  
  
Doc Robbins came walking up the hall. He saw Sara and cautiously approached her.  
  
" How's it going?" he asked, gesturing to the interrogation room.  
  
" Waiting for the fibers and DNA to be analyzed," she answered.  
  
He looked toward the viewing room. " Is Gil in there?"  
  
Sara frowned and gave him a shrug. " Yeah, last time I checked he was."  
  
Doc Robbins politely excused himself from Sara and quietly entered the viewing room. Grissom was leaning against the two-way mirror, lost in thought.  
  
" Gil," Robbins said.  
  
" Hey, Al," Grissom replied softly.  
  
" I...uh..I thought you might want a copy of your father's autopsy report. He...uh...had end-stage cancer. I wanted to be the one to let you know," Robbins said sadly.  
  
Grissom reluctantly took the report from him and stared at it briefly.  
  
" Thanks, Al," he said as he slipped back into his thoughts.  
  
Robbins quietly made his way out of the room, passing Sara who was still pacing the halls, chewing on her nails. She saw Warrick coming down the aisle with the DNA report in his hands.  
  
" Both the fiber from the bandana and the DNA sample are a match," he whispered.  
  
They both entered the interrogation room and sat down across from Jorge.  
  
" You were there, Jorge," Sara said quietly.  
  
Jorge burst into tears, his sobs racking his body.  
  
" Here's what I think happened," Sara began. " You decided to rob someone that night. Martin Grissom just happened to be your unfortunate victim..."  
  
" He fought back!" Jorge yelled. " He should have just given me the fucking wallet!"  
  
" You were in his car....maybe you were pretending to hitchhike. He picked you up and that's when you held him up. But he got out of the car and ran. You chased after him, but he fought back. So, you shot him. You took his wallet...took the money, and threw the wallet off to the side of the road.. You then walked back to the car and drove it off the road into some bushes in an attempt to conceal it," Warrick stated.  
  
" It was an initiation into the Snakebacks. Just steal someone's money. Hold them up. That's why I picked an old guy. I figured he wouldn't put up a fight. It just got out of hand," Jorge wailed.  
  
The officer on guard walked over and began to cuff Jorge as Sara and Warrick left the room.  
  
" You...uh...gonna talk to him?" Warrick asked, referring to Grissom in the other room.  
  
" Yeah...I'll catch up with you," Sara said with sigh as she entered the viewing room.  
  
Grissom was reading the autopsy report that Doc Robbins had brought to him. Sara approached him cautiously.  
  
" You okay, Gris?" she asked quietly.  
  
Grissom let out a deep sigh and closed the report.  
  
" Yeah....I don't know. It's all just so surreal," he said. He paused, then looked up at Sara with a thoughtful smile. " Thank you, Sara. You did a good job. You always do a good job. I know I don't tell you that enough."  
  
" It's okay, Gris. I said we'd catch him and we did. Case closed, right?" Sara said, hoping he'd open up to her and tell her some of the things that were on his mind. Instead, his emotions went blank again.  
  
" Yeah. Case closed," he said with half a grin as he made his way out of the room, leaving Sara shaking her head.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
A few nights went by and Grissom and his crew went about their business. Sara tried gauging his emotions regarding the subject of his father's murder, but came back empty handed every time. She couldn't understand how Grissom could be completely void of any emotion. The man may not have been the greatest father, but it was his father nonetheless.  
  
The body had been released a couple days prior. Grissom was the only next of kin to be found. He had the body transported to a local mortuary where the body was prepared and buried the following day. Grissom attended the burial only out of guilt. He felt he had to be there even thought he didn't want to be. He was still working on tying up any loose ends that his father had left behind, but for the most part he wanted nothing more than for everything to be over and done with. He wanted to purge the whole incident from his mind and get on with his life. Grissom sat in his office flipping through paperwork when he noticed Sara standing in his doorway.  
  
" Yes, Sara," he said softly.  
  
" Uh...I just thought I'd let you know that your father's belongings that were collected are being released. They're ready for you to sign out and take home," she said slowly.  
  
" Okay. I'll go down in a while to get it," he said.  
  
Sara wanted to say more, but changed her mind and spun on her heels and walked away. Grissom watched her leave with a touch of frustration. He didn't understand why she was so angry with him. It was his life, not hers.  
  
__________________________________________________________________________  
  
Later that shift Grissom walked down to the evidence lockup to collect his father's belongings.  
  
" Here you go, Mr. Grissom," the girl behind the counter said with a sad smile.  
  
Grissom signed the forms. " Thank you, Jenny."  
  
" Uh...I'm...I'm really sorry, Mr. Grissom," she said softly.  
  
" Thank you," Grissom replied uncomfortably as he took the bag from her and walked back to his office.  
  
He shut the door behind him and sat down at his desk., contemplating whether to look through the belongings or not. His curiosity got the better of him as he tore open the bag. Inside were some receipts and unimportant personal items collected from the car, some clothing that wasn't kept for evidence, and a small plastic bag with what looked like items from his father's wallet. Grissom stared at it, letting out a sigh. After a few moments he finally decided to open it. Inside were receipts, credit cards, his father's California driver's license, and some business cards stuffed inside a small pouch. Seeing nothing of particular interest he began to seal the plastic bag back up. He stopped when something sticking out of the small business card pouch caught his eye. He grabbed the item and slowly pulled it out of the pouch and stared at it incredulously. It definitely was not a business card.  
  
__________________________________________________________________________  
  
Sara strolled the hallways looking for Grissom. She felt she had to at least explain to him why she felt angry towards him regarding his feelings about his father., but she couldn't seem to find him. She knocked lightly on his office door and opened the door slowly, but he wasn't in there either.  
  
' Maybe he left for something to eat?' she thought to herself as she headed outside to see if his car was gone. She went through the double doors and spotted his Tahoe right where it always was. She furrowed her brow in frustration.  
  
" Where are you, Grissom?" she asked herself aloud.  
  
She turned to go back inside the building when something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She looked over and spotted Grissom further out in the parking lot sitting on a curb. He was staring intently at something in his hands. Sara cautiously approached him and sat down on the curb next to him. He made no move to acknowledge her. He just kept staring at his hands. She reached out and touched his arm.  
  
" Grissom?" she said quietly.  
  
He looked up at her, startled. Sara looked into his eyes and was amazed at what she saw: tears, threatening to spill out of his sad, blue eyes. She looked down at his hands and saw that he was clutching a faded, old photograph showing an older man and a young boy with curly brown hair. They were standing on the beach, smiling like it was the happiest day of their lives.  
  
Sara looked back up into Grissom's eyes, but he turned his head, ashamed of his own sorrow. It was at this moment that she finally understood how deep his wounds really were. She wanted to embrace him, to absorb some of his pain. But this was Grissom. She felt tears come to her own eyes. She reached out, grabbed his hand and held it tightly, and cried with him. She cried not only for his painful past, but also for the future that he would never have because of a senseless act of violence. In that instant, she felt that she had been given a piece of the enigmatic puzzle that was Gil Grissom. Now was not the time to think about her personal feelings for Grissom. She sat there in silence in the dark parking lot and held his hand, helping him finally grieve for his father.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I will never be safe. I will never be sane. I will always be weird inside. I will always be lame.  
  
Daddy gave me a name. My Daddy gave me a name. And then he walked away.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The End 


End file.
